


Only for You

by phantisma



Series: Keeper Verse [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-13
Updated: 2006-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:36:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is afraid he’ll lose Sam, until Sam cooks up a way to let him know he isn’t going anywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only for You

“Sammy…”

He’s not sure if he hears it…or if it’s just in his head, but when he opens his eyes, Dana is standing beside the bed, her thumb in her mouth. There were no tears, no obvious signs of distress.

Sam breathed in deep and tried to wake up enough to figure out what she needed. “Dana? What’s wrong?” Dean was snoring lightly behind him, his arm over Sam’s side. He looked at the clock and sighed when he saw it was 3:15 in the morning. Dana took her thumb out of her mouth and handed Sam Mr. Beaver, her bear.

“He’s hungry.”

Sam looked at the bear, then at Dana. They were going to wake Dean, and that wouldn’t be good, he had a late night at the garage, and had to be in too early again. “Let’s go out to the kitchen then, and get Mr. Beaver a snack.”

Sam peeled back the blankets and slid out from under Dean’s arm, then took Dana’s hand and together they padded on bare feet out to the apartment’s little kitchen. “What could Mr. Beaver possibly want to eat in the middle of the night?” Sam asked, setting the bear on the table.

“Tookies.” Dana said.

Sam chuckled. Of course Mr. Beaver wanted cookies, because Dana knew that Sam had brought some home with him. “Okay, but don’t tell Daddy.” He knew he shouldn’t indulge her, especially since this was the third time in a week, but he couldn’t help himself. “And does Mr. Beaver want some milk with his cookies?”

“Juice!” Dana exclaimed, climbing up into her seat before Sam could help her.

Sam gave her a cookie and a small glass of juice and sat down with her at the table. It still boggled him when he looked at her…in a few days he’d have been a part of her life for three years. Those three years had changed him…had changed all of them.

He still got lost sometimes just watching her, just watching the world through her eyes.

“Hey.” Dean said suddenly from the door to the hall. “What are you two doing up?”

“Mr. Beaver was hungry.” Sam said, looking guilty.

Dana’s eyes got big and she brushed away the cookie crumbs from her mouth. “Mr. Beaver was, huh?” Dean asked, his voice grumbly, but his eyes shining.

Dana nodded very seriously. “Very hungry. His tummy woke me up.”

“Yeah? How’s he feeling now?”

“All better.” Dana said.

Dean nodded and kissed the top of her head. “Then you and Mr. Beaver better get to bed. You’re going to Missouri’s in the morning.”

Dana blew kisses to Sam, then grabbed Mr. Beaver and hurried back to her bedroom. Dean kissed Sam’s head, then moved around him to the fridge and fished out a bottle of water. “You are spoiling my daughter.”

Sam stood and put his arms around Dean, pulling him close. There was something…not quite right. “Are you okay?”

Dean made that face…the one that said _girly, much?_ and took a long drink from the bottle. But Sam could see the panic deep in his eyes, and it made him let go. “What?”

Dean shook his head, tried to shake it off. “Nothing Sam. I had…a dream…okay?”

“You don’t get that scared by a dream, Dean.”

Dean’s jaw tightened and he backed away. “No. It was…You were gone. You…something came for you… And you left. You left us to keep us safe.” Dean was obviously uncomfortable. “You weren’t there when I woke up…” Dean tensed. “I’m a complete girl, aren’t I?”

Sam chuckled. “Yes, yes you are.” He rubbed a large hand over Dean’s back. “I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and leaned back into Sam’s touch. “I know. It was just…so real.”

“I know what that can be like.” Sam kneaded at the knots in Dean’s shoulders, then patted him. “You coming back to bed?”

“In a minute. You go.”

Sam kissed the back of his neck and left him. “I’ll check on Dana.”

Dean nodded and turned to watch him go. He was still unsure why the dream had affected him like it had. It wasn’t the first time he’d had the same one. Sam had gone on a hunting trip to Boston three months before, and Dean had dreamed it then. It reminded him he was too complacent, that he’d let himself fall into a soft life. He had no hold on Sam.

He knew that Sam stayed because he felt he had to atone for his past. Some days that was all that held Sam there. Dean would see the look in his eye, and for a moment he would be the Sam he first met…dangerous, mysterious…all boyish charm and control.

It was almost as if he was under some sort of compulsion…as if the very way he’d bound Dean to him in those first days had turned around on him and bound him to Dean…and damn if that wasn’t all bound up in the sex now, just like before.

Before Dean hadn’t known…and then he had, and he tried to make it better, to make them _brothers_ , but as fucked up as it was, Dean wanted him…wanted to kiss him until he stopped trembling, wanted to hold him close and touch him with the tenderness he never had…wanted to take away the terror…and as fucked up as it was to want his own brother that way, the things that had broken Sam were so much worse. Dean should let him go, should let him heal and grow and stop breaking him more by keeping him locked up in this twisted parody of a relationship…this…perversion of what love was meant to be.

Dean slammed down the last of the water and stood there in his kitchen in his boxers, trying to shake the feeling that one day he’d turn around to find the place that should be filled with Sam was empty. One day Sam would realize, or Dean would love him enough and it would be over.

Dean swallowed it and went back to bed. He had to be to work in a few hours, and even if he couldn’t sleep, Sam would have the bed warm and Dean could ease his conscience in the heat of Sam’s arms, lose the guilt in the passion.

 

Sam left before Dean and Dana, even though he had the day off. He’d spent the remainder of the night doing something he’d promised he never would. At least he knew now what was bothering Dean…and he had an idea, but it was going to take him most of the day to work it all out. It had come to him through the early morning while they both pretended to sleep, and Dean held on to him like he would disappear if he let go.

Dean and Sam and Dana lived together as if they were a family, a normal, average family. And they weren’t. And everything about the way this had started, about _stay_ and _want_ and the casual way it simply overlooked the past had left all of this uncertainty between them. Sam never sure Dean really wanted him there. Dean never really sure Sam would stay. There were no promises, no vows.

There was a lot of history they ignored, swept into the closet and not brought up…not even when the nightmares drove Sam out of bed. But maybe…just maybe Sam could change it. Change everything.

 

It was nearly four o’clock when he pulled up in front of the garage. John was the first to spot him, waving from behind a Cadillac as Sam strode up. “Hey. Dean around?”

“He’s in the office, I think.”

“Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.” John peeked out from under the hood. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could convince you to keep Dana this evening?”

John nodded. “Anytime. Why?”

Sam frowned and shook his head. “Nothing special. I just need Dean for something and it’ll be easier without her underfoot.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.” Sam pocketed his keys and made his way into the office just as Dean hung up the phone. “Hey.”

Dean looked surprised. “Hey, what brings you here?”

“You.” He smothered a smile. “I…came to invite you out…for dinner…”

Dean looked at him like he was crazy and got up to close the door, looking out the window at his father under Mr. Taylor’s Caddy. “What?”

“Just hear me out. Dad’s going to pick up Dana. I want us to…” He rolled his eyes. “God, Dean, it’s dinner.”

Dean smirked and ruffled through some papers on his desk. “You asking me on a date, Sammy? I guess maybe I was wrong. You’re clearly the girl.”

Sam smiled. If he only knew. “Okay, so…here.” He pulled a folded slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“Directions. Just follow them when you leave here.”

“What? I don’t even get to go home and shower first?”

“No…you know I love the way you smell when you leave here.” Sam said it quietly. There was something about the smell of oil and sweat and Dean that drove Sam crazy. Only thing better was when there was gun oil involved too. “Will you? Just come?”

Dean looked down at the directions and nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure Sammy. For you.”

Sam smiled his big toothy grin that made Dean laugh and left Dean standing there smiling after him.

Dean did his best to wipe up the worst of the grease and stains on his hands before he left, toying with the paper the note was written on as he went out to the car. This was unusual. They weren’t exactly given to overt displays of affection…and this was reading exactly like something that belonged in a chick-flick.

Still, Sam had seemed so eager, so happy and really, Dean would do almost anything to get that smile. So, Dean drove the mile and a half outside of town, turned down the old mill road and turned again, passing through an old grove of trees and stopping beside Sam’s car.

The note said to walk north into the meadow toward the circle of oak trees. Dean nodded to himself and got out of the car. He could see lights of some sort ahead in the dusk. He wasn’t sure what this was, and he couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Sam thought he had to reassure him after the night before.

He hated how shook up a stupid dream had gotten him. As he neared the trees, Dean could see Sam moving around. Some of the light came from a fire, some from torches that marked out a smaller circle within the trees. He stopped and watched Sam fuss over a small table set with food and candles, then with the blanket that covered most of the inner circle.

Sam must have felt his eyes, because he looked up, his face touched with a shyness, a sheepish grin that drove all desire to tease him over this right out of Dean’s head. Sam held out a hand and Dean nodded, pocketing his car keys as he crossed into the circle and took Sam’s hand.

They started in the center of the ring, Sam setting one finger over his lips to indicate he should be silent. Sam turned them north, then east, then south and then west, before he led Dean to a chair he hadn’t seen beside the table.

It was ritual, Dean could see that, even as Sam leaned over and kissed each cheek tenderly, then backed away. Sam smiled and crossed to the table. When he returned, he carried a plate and knelt in front of Dean.

“This place was once used by the Natives of the area. It was sacred to them.”

Dean’s eyes traced his movements as he fidgeted a little, not quite the confident man Dean first met. Dean noticed unexpectedly that he had removed the glamour as Sam bared his chest.

“I wanted to do this for a long time…been thinking about it. I had to improvise a few things….but the meaning is all here.” He picked up the cornbread and broke it in half. He lifted his chin in a gesture that Dean simply knew meant he wanted Dean to open his mouth. The bread was still warm as it touched his tongue and he chewed slowly, watching Sam put the other half in his own mouth.

“The corn represents the earth, and the blessings of a good harvest.”

Dean bit back a snort, because the look on Sam’s face was so serious. “What are we doing here, Sammy?” he asked breathlessly.

Sam leaned forward and brushed a kiss over his lips. “Trust me?”

Dean nodded slowly. “Of course.”

Sam smiled and sat back a little. He lifted something else off the plate. “This was supposed to be air dried, but I had to settle for commercial stuff.” He broke the jerky and put a small piece on Dean’s tongue. “It’s for the blessings of plenty, in the hunt and in the spices to cure the meat.”

Dean swallowed and watched Sam’s hands lift a shot glass. “I improvised here too. For fire…for warmth and safety in the home.” He put the shot glass to Dean’s lips and tipped half it’s contents into Dean’s mouth. Fire indeed. Dean tasted whiskey, strong, burning down his throat as he swallowed. Sam finished off the shot and raised a glass. “And lastly, purity.” Sam actually blushed at the word and Dean thought maybe it was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen. Sam didn’t say any more, just offered Dean a drink and took one himself before setting aside the plate and glasses and settling a little.

“This is the part where I—“ Sam blew out and chuckled a little and Dean suddenly could see how nervous he actually was. “I confess myself to you. You have to stay quiet and let me…and then…you’ll know what…”

Sam shifted a little, his eyes looking for Dean’s, looking for an agreement that Dean would stay quiet. Dean nodded, his eyes devouring the look on Sam’s face.

Sam licked his lips. He was more nervous than he wanted to admit. “Dean, I am…not a good man.” Sam held up his hand when it looked like Dean would protest and Dean settled. “I try to be, and sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I don’t. I suspect that will always be true. There’s a lot in my past I’m not proud of. You need to know that. You need to know what kind of person I have been, not just in the time you’ve known me.”

He wanted to get up, to walk around, but he didn’t. Instead he anchored himself, taking Dean’s hands. Okay that was girly. He was going to hear about it later. There was no time for details…well there was, but only if he wanted to spend all night on his knees. “I’m going to go for the overview…but, when…before you decide…you can ask me for details…on anything.”

“Sam, I don’t—“

Sam squeezed his hands. “You listen, I talk.”

Dean licked his lips and looked like he wanted to just end this, but Sam wasn’t going to let him, not when Sam knew what Dean was afraid of. “You have a vague idea of who I was before you. I ran with demons, I served several of them. I took children from their mothers and fathers and delivered them to families who would treat them no better than I had been. I’ve used magic and influence and money and sex to manipulate people.” Sam swallowed. “I—I’ve raped someone…more than one.” He felt the tears and bit his lip until they stopped. “I’ve killed…none of them were…it doesn’t matter. They were human, and I killed them.”

Sam shifted, his eyes on their hands, joined and resting on Dean’s lap. “I’ve…given myself to one demon to save myself from another…” Now he raised his eyes so his brother would understand him. “I let one demon use my body for pleasure, in order to keep another from taking its pleasure by force.”

Dean’s green eyes were bright, intense and they held his gaze fiercely.

There was one more thing he had to say, to confess. Something he knew Dean hadn’t even suspected. Dean’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and Sam wasn’t sure he could say it…but if this were to mean anything, Dean had to know. “I…opened myself up to a demon, let it use my body to commit terrible acts on others. I let myself be possessed.”

Dean’s eyes closed, but not before Sam saw the pain in them, a hurt that might be more than his next words could even attempt to repair. “There has never been anything in my life that was not spawned first in evil, not until you. I tasted your…goodness the very first time you let me touch you. I felt the power of that inside of me for a long time. I tried to fight it, but you…loved me. I have hurt people, I’ve hurt you. I’ve done unspeakable things to you and consorted with your enemies. Somehow you loved me anyway.”

He moved his hand to the jacket pocket and pulled out his gift, his offering. “I am a better man when I’m with you. I never understood love before you and Dana came into my life…maybe I still don’t. I have no right to make any claims on your life. I only know that I want the chance to love you back…I want the opportunity to learn how to love the way she does…the way you do. I want to belong, to be a part of your life. I want to learn to be the person you see when you look at me.”

He turned his hand up on Dean’s knee, opening it to reveal the ring. It was a thick silver band, chased with sigils and runes. “If you wear this ring, for as long as you wear this ring, I promise myself to you and to Dana…to stay, to be yours…only yours…always yours…” Sam swallowed. He hadn’t been sure he could say that. He wasn’t really the submissive sort. Dean got that, judging by the hitch of his breath.

Dean lifted the ring, holding it up to the light. His eyes sought out Sam’s, searching them until Sam wondered if he’d seen something in them that Sam didn’t already know was there. Then Dean’s eyes went back to the ring, as if judging it for size.

There were questions…lots of them…but Dean saw the only answer he needed in Sam’s eyes. He was more open, more trusting than any time Dean could remember. He was kneeling there in front of him giving himself…and knowing what had been taken from him, taken by force…the importance was not lost on Dean. Slowly, without a word, without a single question, Dean settled the ring over the index finger of his left hand.

They were silent for a long moment, both of them staring down at the ring. The night air was sweet with the smell of some flower, and Dean’s face was flushing from the whiskey. The fire crackled and Dean’s fears seemed a lifetime away.

“Dude, did we just get married?” Dean finally asked and Sam laughed out loud.

“Sort of, I guess.”

“Which one of us was the bride?”

Sam laughed and rose up to kiss him. “Technically, you were…tradition says that the groom comes to his bride and confesses all his secrets to her. If she still desires him, she takes his offering and they are made one.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I like the sound of that.”

Sam blushed and Dean’s hand slipped into his hair to draw him in for another kiss. “Especially if it means I get to fuck my groom now.” Dean growled into his ear.

“Well, I **did** bring the blanket.” Sam whispered back.

Dean’s whole body came off the chair at once, pushing Sam back onto the blanket as his lips pulled on Sam’s, his free hand already pressing between Sam’s legs, palming the long hard line of his cock. He kissed at wet cheeks, swallowing the past and licking up the promises offered on the altar of his skin. He wanted to take everything Sam offered, to believe that Sam wanted…this…that it wasn’t all just some passing thing…and to give him back the only thing worthy of such a gift.

Then Sam’s hands found his belt and they were rolling so that Dean was on his back. Almost before his cock was free of his pants, Sam’s mouth…that sinful, heavenly mouth, was wrapped around him, hot and wet and sliding slickly over the skin, drawing whimpering sounds from Dean’s mouth.

His hands must have been working at his own belt while his mouth was working Dean, because suddenly his cock was bobbing in the cool night air, then pressed against Dean’s as Sam lay on top of him, kissing him deeply and desperate as Sam kicked off his jeans. “I want to have you inside me.” Sam said, moving so that Dean’s cock was hard against his ass.

“Yeah…Yeah…” Dean started to move, but Sam pressed him back against the blanket.

“Let me…” He lifted up and held Dean’s cock with one hand, his mouth falling open as he descended slowly onto it. He moved slowly, shallow, then deeper, in one long push, until his thighs touched Dean’s sides and he exhaled slowly.

Dean watched Sam’s face as it registered the ache, the burn…then as he started to move himself back up, the moment Dean’s cock hit his prostrate. “Sam…” Dean’s hands slid up over his chest, up his neck, into his hair. “Come here.” He pulled Sam’s head toward him, arching up to capture his lips. Their tongues tangled and teeth clashed, Dean’s hands fisting in Sam’s hair, tight, hard.

They arched their chests away from one another, driving their hips together, Sam pressing down, Dean lifting up. “Fuck…Dean…”

Dean gasped for air as Sam’s ass clenched at his cock. He ran a hand over Sam’s face, pushing his thumb into Sam’s lips and electric shock shot strait to his cock as Sam sucked it in. He wanted to hold on, wanted it to last, wanted it to be good…because this didn’t happen often…He pulled Sam close again, kissed him, licked his way over his chin and up to his ear. “I’m going to fuck you good, baby…you ready?”

Sam’s groan was enough of an assent and Dean rolled them so that Sam’s naked body was under him, bracing himself against the ground and positioning himself between Sam’s legs so that he could thrust more deeply. Sam’s hands grabbed Dean’s waist, pulling him deeper, closer, like there wasn’t enough skin already pressed against skin…like Dean was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

His fingers bit into the skin over his hip bones and Dean hissed. “Oh, yeah Sammy…” He watched as Sam wriggled under him, tilting his hips in offering, begging with half lidded eyes for more. Dean planted himself as deep into Sam as he could, running his hands up over hot skin and realizing he was still fully dressed while Sam lay naked and wanting beneath him.

Somehow it made the whole thing hotter.

Dean kissed the hollow at the base of Sam’s neck. “Now…Dean…please, now….”

He swallowed and moved, feeling the heat of Sam slide off him, then pushing back into it. He wasn’t going to be able to make it last very long…not like he wanted…not with Sam pushing his fingers into him hard enough to bruise, not with the mewling sounds he was making, his head thrown back, his whole body arched up under Dean, not with his ass holding Dean’s cock so fucking tight.

“Faster.” Sam whispered, his hands on Dean’s wrists now, his feet taking up the place around Dean’s waist, pushing Dean on each stroke until Dean yelled out and emptied himself into his brother.

Dean kept himself inside Sam and reached for the red cock between them. Sam shivered as the metal of the new ring pressed against him. “Come for me Sammy…want to see you…” Dean whispered, working his hand up and over and down and twisting before Sam thrust upward and groaned as Dean wrung an orgasm out of him.

As his breathing returned to something resembling normal, Dean rolled off and laid beside Sam, holding the ring adorned finger up. “You bought me jewelry,” he said, though Sam could hear the humor in the voice.

“I did.”

“You are such a girl, Sammy.”

“You’re the one wearing the ring, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and reached to tuck himself back into his jeans. “Only for you, Sam.”

“Promise?”

“What?”

Sam sat up and Dean followed. “Only for me?” He slipped his hand into Dean’s, threading their fingers together.

Dean stared at their hands for a minute then nodded. “Yeah, Sam…I promise. Only for you….always for you.”

Sam smiled that brilliant, little boy smile that Dean couldn’t resist. “I think I love you, Dean.”

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Course you do, what’s not to love?”


End file.
